Speak Up
I woke up in the middle of the night to see my T.V. turned off. You see, I really can't sleep without it- I'm afraid of the dark, and I wake up in the middle of the night if it gets turned off. The best thing I could assume was Dad came home from work. After all, I fell asleep early that night. "Ughh." I groaned, trying to find my remote. I began searching around my nightstand, and found nothing. I then started searching around my pillows. "Aha!" I screamed in delight when I found it, and I happily turned my T.V. back on. I lied back down onto my comfortable bed, and tried to go to sleep. The issue was- I couldn't get anything off of my mind. "Great." I moaned, and checked the time. 6:17 a.m. I got up from my bed slowly, I guess I could wake up at this time anyways. I had to wake up in around forty-five minutes, so there should've been no problem. "Better wake up Dad." I thought aloud, and slowly drifted off into his room. The first thing I noticed was the dogs didn't follow me, and that was pretty unusual. I slid it off, though, and continued down the hall. I opened his door, and to my surprise, he was already awake. "Oh, hey Dad." I said. "G-Good morning d-darling." I heard him say. "Dad, are you okay? You don't sound too fresh." I asked with total concern. He sounded like he was struggling to breathe. "I-I'm fine." He said. "Dad, it's pitch black in here, I'm going to turn on the lights." I said, trying to find out what he was hiding. "No, P-Please-" I turned on the light to see a strange man holding my Dad against his will, and my Dad didn't look like he was moving. I went straight to the kitchen, and picked up a knife. I ran down the hall, and entered Dad's room. I didn't see the strange man, nor my Dad. I started bursting into tears, knowing the probability of my own Dad being dead was extremely high. After about an hour, I called my Mom, and told her Dad left and didn't return. I didn't want her thinking I was insane. "Oh dear. Well, pack up honey. You need to come live with me until we find him, okay darling? I'll call the cops real quick, then I'll come to pick you up. Don't go anywhere, okay?" She said. I smiled a bit, as a tear went down my face. Then I told her I loved her, hung up, and began packing. I went into my room, and I didn't see any of my dogs. I whistled, chanting their name in my special voice, until I heard a loud yelp coming from the kitchen. I ran down there, holding the same knife to see if that strange man returned. As I ran, I tripped, and the knife fell out of my hand. When I touched with the ground, I felt a strong pain in my left arm. I tried to keep the pain in as I looked to see what was causing it. The knife had fallen out of my hand, and landed in my arm. Tears of pain streamed down my face, and I pulled the knife out slowly. I didn't enjoy any of it, either. I started to walk towards the kitchen again, and I saw the strange man holding two of my dead dogs, while one was injured on the floor. He stomped on her head, and she died, just like that. "Why?" I screamed, before he ran outside, by window, into the blazing snow. "NO MORE." I screamed, and ran after him. I saw him talking to a woman, and he looked creepier than ever. The women looked horrified, and now I knew why. I never got a real good look at his face, but now that I saw it, I was frightened as well. I didn't care though, and I grabbed my knife and walked towards him. The woman began to slowly fall, and I felt another strike of pain in my left arm. I got a great look of the woman's face, and I suddenly wasn't so weak and in pain anymore. "MOM." I screamed, as I ran towards the man, and put the sharp knife into the strange man's chest. He fell to the floor, and I looked at Mom. She was just as lifeless as Dad was this morning. Just as lifeless as my dogs. Just as lifeless as the man that was dead, next to her. I closed my eyes, and keeping them closed, I cried. I cried all my feelings out into the cold, and pure-white snow. As I opened my eyes, I couldn't believe what was in front of me. I was in front of a crowed. In the front row was a crying Mom and Dad of mine. I had a rope around my neck. I wanted to say something, but I felt as if it was too late. I felt as if this was my only fate. "One, two, three!" A man shouted before a lever was pulled. My life started to drift away. I could see my Mom and Dad turn away. I could also see one last thing. The strange man. He was in the corner. In the last seconds I had, he mouthed something I should've done: "Speak Up." Category:Mental Illness